


Freight Train

by ghxstof_you



Series: bubble hockey shenanigans [2]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020 NHL Playoffs Bubble, 2020 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NHL RPF, Not Beta Read, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Tyler is really sad and Jamie saves the day, bubble hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghxstof_you/pseuds/ghxstof_you
Summary: Tyler's mind gets the best of him, Jamie tries to help him through an anxiety attack.
Relationships: Jamie Benn/Tyler Seguin
Series: bubble hockey shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931383
Comments: 3
Kudos: 76





	Freight Train

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the 5-2 loss Dallas took to Tampa. I'm getting real anxious because although we still have a chance my anxiety is getting the best of me. I want dallas to win so badly but I don't know if they will. So as most dallas fans I was sad after the game so I wrote a sad fic. Wasn't beta read, I didn't even read it over when I was done so it's probably really bad. But uh yeah enjoy :)

It was a feeling that sat uncomfortably in his chest, something that felt like it wouldn’t stop growing. It started weeks ago, when Tyler missed a pass that had he connected, would have been an easy goal. Of course he beat himself up over it plenty, but the comments that he could never seem to get away from were overwhelming.

_ Good game boys, but someone needs to teach Tyler how to shoot! _

_ Did anyone else see that major fuck up on Seguin’s end? Wtf!! _

_ Stars really are wasting money on someone who can’t shoot, huh? _

Tyler tried to ignore it, tried to brush it under the carpet as trollers, people who were just trying to get into his head.  _ It was working _ , he thought, but he shouldn’t-- couldn’t let them get to him. Not now. Now that they’re so close to getting what they want.

But after each game passed and Tyler still had a growing streak of no playoff goals, the comments became constant. He couldn’t get away from it anymore, each post he made (even ones from weeks ago) flooding with people commenting on his performance as a forward. Dallas’ own pages were flooded with them too. People calling him trash, saying he isn’t worth the money, calling on Rick to get him moved down to a line without Chubbs and Rads. It was numbing, how hard the comments hit him and at this point he couldn’t think of time during practice or a game where the comments  _ weren’t  _ stuck in his mind. It became his life, a never ending spiral of self-hate Tyler kept inflicting on himself. 

The breaking point was the 5-2 loss they took against Tampa, Tyler once again missing the connection to a pass that would have made an easy goal.

He watched it in slow motion. Seeing the puck flying his way, he stretched out his stick, his wrist protesting against the movement and took the shot. When he never felt the connection of rubber to wood, his stomach dropped. He turned his head to watch the puck slide past him, a Tampa player picking it up and clearing it down the ice.

Tyler felt numb. He was beyond embarrassed, feeling like a complete idiot.  _ How could I have fucked up that badly _ . He thought.  _ And for the second time too. _

He skated back to the bench and punched the wooden wall, falling down onto the bench with a sigh as he let his head hang between his legs.  _ Idiot, idiot, idiot….  _ He chastised, each thought being met with his fist connecting to his thigh. 

After the game, the locker room was fairly silent. No one spoke, just angrily got changed and kept to himself. Tyler didn’t notice the silence, his mind speaking too loud for him to even concentrate on the task of dressing himself.

_ Such an idiot. Missing an easy shot like that? That’s a rookie mistake. Idiot.. Idiot… _

He couldn’t take it anymore. It was never ending. The thoughts, the feelings of hatred. He wasn’t happy, hasn’t been for most of the playoffs and he knows players have started to notice. He knows his teammates try to make him crack a smile, but can’t even succeed at that anymore. Some tease him, tell him that maybe he should head back down to minors for some  _ refreshing _ , but Tyler’s mind convinces him what they’re saying is anything but a joke. He wants it all to stop. He wants to finally get a goal and have this curse finally gone. Maybe if he dove in front of a puck, got hit in the head, the concussion will whisk the bad thoughts away? At this point, Tyler was pleading for any kind of solution.

“Tyler.” Rick yelled. Tyler snapped his glance to meet his coaches’. “Let’s connect those shots, understood? Otherwise, good defense out there son.”

Tyler thought he was going to throw up.

**\-- -- --**

It was a miracle Tyler was able to make it back to his room in one piece. The elevator ride from that main floor to his room felt like forever, Jamie’s eyes burning into the side of his skull as Tyler tried his hardest to keep himself from falling apart. He rushed to his room, Jamie calling his name once or twice, but Tyler was already in his room before Jamie could have done anything. 

Tyler collapsed against his hotel door as soon as he heard it shut, his lungs shaking as he gasped for air like a fish out of water. The thoughts aren’t stopping, charging through his mind like a freight train. Each breath came out hiccupped, his balance wavering when he tried to stand up.

“Fuck.” Tyler choked, his trembling hands covering his eyes. A sob was let out from his lips.

  
  
  


Tyler crawled over on his hands and knees towards his bed, tears streaming down his face and staining his grey t-shirt. He was too afraid to stand, his head teetering from side to side making his stomach churn. He knew if he’d stand, he’d be falling back to ground in seconds.

_ Should try not to fuck more than I already have.. Should I? _

He reached the side of his bed and grasped his bedsheets in a white knuckled grip. He pulled himself up, faltering a couple times before he finally made his way into his bed. He wrapped himself tightly in his comforter, hoping the warmth would bring him some kind of comfort.

_ Pathetic.. _

Another sobbed ripped it’s way from his lungs, his grip shaking as he hugged his comforter closer to his body. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. All these strangers calling him awful things. They wouldn’t leave him alone. He wants it to stop. He wants it all to stop. He can’t take these thoughts anymore. They’re deafening, like a ring in your ear that you can’t shake. Or a scar you don’t want. These thoughts felt stuck to his brain, branded and never leaving.

“Tyler?” A voice called from his door. Tyler was quick to shove his face into his pillow, silencing his cry. “Tyler what’s going on?”

He took a second to try and breathe, his voice too shaky to respond.

“Tyler?” The voice called again. Tyler recognized it as Jamie’s.

“I’m fine.” Tyler called out, trying to wipe away the tears that just kept falling. It was silent, before the door knob jiggled.

“Tyler, open the door.” Jamie called out. His voice caused a chain reaction, anxiety blooming in his chest. Tyler gasped out for air, hiding his face back into his pillow. This time the door shook, Jamie knocking.

“Tyler-” Jamie started.

“I’m okay, Jamie!” Tyler yelled, silence following. “Please, you need to rest.”

It was quiet for a moment before Tyler heard fading footsteps. Realization dawned on him as he let out another cry. Jamie had given up on him. Decided Tyler wasn’t worth the time and went back to sleep. How could he be so dumb? Thinking Jamie actually cared. Jamie had bigger things to worry about, like keeping his team from losing the series. He probably was coming over to put Tyler in check, tell him to muster up some strength and to just play. To actually contribute to the team and maybe not lead them to failure.

Tyler was leading his team to failure.

It was the only explanation. Maybe had he not missed that easy shot the team would have not lost today. He could have brought the team up a goal and maybe then they would have had a chance. They could be leading the series right now if it wasn’t for Tyler. He balled his fist and hit his thigh,

_ Useless… so fucking useless… _

Tyler bathed in his thoughts until he heard his door open. There was a soft click, and Tyler didn’t even sit up to see who it was because he could just tell by the presence he felt in the room.

“Jesus, Tyler-” Jamie breathed, dropping the key he had and running over to his bed. He dropped down to his knees, hands reaching for Tyler’s face. Tyler scurried away, hiding further within his bed as he let out another sob.

“Please, Tyler. “ Jamie pleaded, his voice soft and laced with concern. “Let me help.”

“I’m sorry.” Tyler hiccupped, his voice lower than a whisper.

“For what?”

“For letting you down.” Tyler cried.

Jamie was silent. He stood from where he was seated and walked around, climbing into Tyler’s bed. He shuffled over, wrapping his arms around Tyler’s torso. Tyler let out a shudder, wiping furiously at the tears that escaped from his eyes. Jamie was gentle, shushing Tyler as he pulled him impossibly close to his body. Jamie’s warmth was grounding, and Tyler clung to his shirt trying to find more.

“Since you were traded to Dallas, you have never let me down, ever.” Jamie whispered, his hands rubbing small circles into his back. Tyler let out a quiet sob, hiding his face in Jamie’s chest.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“You know I’m not. “ Jamie whispered. “You have played your heart out, Segs. You’re playing these games with a wrist injury and you haven’t complained about it once. You have helped this team in a million different ways and sacrificed your body for this team too. You might not see it, but I do. And it means the world to me to see how important this is for you. It means the world to me that you care this much about the team and trying to get them a championship. I just wish you could see it how I do.”

Tyler felt his sobs settle, his tears starting to dry on his cheeks. His breath was still uneven, but the pain in his chest was slowly fading away. Tyler nuzzled his face closer to Jamie’s chest. 

“Don’t listen to them.” Jamie whispered, his face nuzzled into Tyler’s hair. “You’ve been pushing yourself and I’ve seen it. The team has seen it. I know the coaches have too. You deserve more kudos for the shit you’ve been doing.” That pulled a small laugh from Tyler. He could feel a smile grow on Jamie’s face.

The two laid in silence, Jamie continuing to administer the soft touches that calmed Tyler down. Once Tyler’s breaths had finally evened out, he lifted his head from its spot in Jamie’s chest, and turned to face Jamie. Jamie smiled, his thumb wiping away at the last bit of tears that sat under Tyler’s eyes, before he planted an innocent kiss to his cheek.

“How did you get in?” Tyler chuckled, smiling when Jamie laughed with him.

“I got a spare key from the front desk. I wasn’t going to leave you by yourself.” Jamie whispered, knocking his forehead against Tyler’s. 

Tyler sighed, wrapping his arms around Jamie’s torso before cuddling into his chest.

“Thank you.” Tyler smiled. Jamie only hummed in response, before the two let slumber take over him.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @multi-fandom-wby


End file.
